


Late Night Drink

by Red_Liliums_from_the_Lunatic_Karma



Category: Nobodies (Video Game)
Genre: Be gentle, But thats how the game goes so, Feelings from a mobil phone's video game, Gen, Minor Character Death, My First Fanfic, does anyone play this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Liliums_from_the_Lunatic_Karma/pseuds/Red_Liliums_from_the_Lunatic_Karma
Summary: Doing the dirty work for somebody may be tough, buy cleaning up the mess they leave behind is another story. Mark knew what he was getting into when he accepted the job, or at least he tought he did when his whole life was on the line.Or: Mark drinking after a long day at work.EDIT: Corrected grammatical errors.





	Late Night Drink

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Bebida de Media Noche](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972115) by [Red_Liliums_from_the_Lunatic_Karma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Liliums_from_the_Lunatic_Karma/pseuds/Red_Liliums_from_the_Lunatic_Karma)



> 1) English isn't my first lenguage.  
> 2)This is my first fanfiction, ever.  
> What could go wrong?
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, and any kind of critisism will be welcomed, as long as it's respectful.

Doing the dirty work for somebody may be tough, but cleaning up the mess they leave behind is another story. Mark knew what he was getting into when he accepted the job, or at least he thought he did when his whole life was on the line. But hey, If someone showed up with the offer of freedom, and all you had to do was work for them, wouldn't anyone agree?

After working for so long under the orders of  **those guys he shouldn't think of when he is trying to relax,** he became what others may call a perfectionist, and that's what made him so good at his job. He couldn't leave a crime scene like a tornado just passed through, he had to clean and return every object used, leaving it as nothing happened. And that's it's how it should be.

But outside of work that kind of "skill" really got into his daily life: Everything had a place, his home and his office were always clean, without a trace of dust or dirt. It was like he just killed someone and was trying to clean a smell only he could smell.

"Maybe that's true in a way"  He said to himself while sitting on the chair behind his desk, a bottle of whisky on a hand and a glass full of that same drink on the other. The weight of the day on his shoulders was getting worst by the second, finding himself trying to drown it with the multiple bottles that were in his office. 

It was supposed to be an easy job: Enter the house, grab the body, hide it on a place where no one would find it, clean everything, and leave. Just like the other jobs he took. But no, this one had to be different. The fax said there should have been just one body, one of a middle age man, but he ended up burying two. 

"That fucking idiot almost ruined everything." He said as he took a swing of his glass, feeling the burning sensation of the whisky going down his throat.

He did as normal, entering the house without anyone noticing, but when he entered the room where the body was he found something unexpected: A woman, on her late forties, probably a business woman based on the clothes she was wearing, the red lipstick she wore was shinning against her pale skin, her eyes wides while she looked at the body of what he could assume was her husband, with his brains all over the wall behind their bed. She was shocked, she didn't appear to have noticed me by the door, he could have left her alone if the moron of a murderer made it seem like a suicide. But no, he had to clean another mess the hard way.

It ended up simple: he grabbed the closest blunt object he could find (a bottle, how fitting), he got close to her and just as she was turning around he smashed the glass bottle on her head, making her fall to the ground. Full of pain, not unconscious, and definitely not dead. Mark had to get on top of her and choke her to death, watching the life fade from her eyes slowly, seeing as tears flooded them and trailed a blood stained cheek. Before he knew it she was dead, just as the man on the bed.

You see, cleaning a crime scene, burning dead bodies, burying them, it's so different from actually killing someone. You don't have to feel them getting rigid by the second, cold under your hands, because of you. That woman shouldn't have been there, she was innocent, she should have lived on thinking her husband disappeared or left her behind to travel the world of whatever she could have imagined.

Could that have been better tho? She could have killed herself after thinking that man left her... The way she looked when she saw the body, it was the look of someone who doesn't have the will to live. Maybe that's why she didn't fight him. He ended up burying them together, like that was going to make him feel better. But to be honest he still felt like shit, even after so many glasses he still was far from drunk. 

In the end Mark got the money, they didn't mention the killing of a witness, or maybe that was what that little bonus was about. Fucking bastards, they couldn't even send him in the fax that someone may show up a the scene, maybe they wanted him to kill the witness, that sounds like them. 

"I can't do anything anymore, stop thinking about it." He tries to convince himself as he drinks the last bit of the bottle, looking at the other empty ones that are around him "This shouldn't affect me, it didn't affect me when I had to hide the bodies of a whole family, baby included, why does that single woman make me feel so bad?"

He says he doesn't know, but his heart remembers, he remembers her eyes, the sadness inside them. Mark remembers that look on her mother as he saw her for the last time behind bars, that look that hunted him the whole time. That woman reminded him of her, and that's what the alcohol is trying to numb.

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations! You made it to the end. I hope you enjoyed it and didn't suffer until the end. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
